Pj, a cat much much different than Spike. Brought him home at five weeks from a neighbor looking to get rid of him and his syblings. His first few weeks with me and my mom, he wasn't such a clean kitty. It isn't that our home was ever sloppy or messy. Not even in the least, not with the neat-nik that raised me. He just wasn't getting around to cleaning himself. Another cat, his unofficial elder, who was born the same year as I, was at least 6years old by that point, Kiki. (Born one month before me to the day as a matter of fact, Kiki was great too) Pj was just being lazy but, Kiki who never once had kittens was not going to have that. Not at all. She didn't take over raising him but, we did find her showing baby-Pj 'If your going to live in this place, you are going to be clean. I'll not have filth.'
And she didn't. Pj learned to be real clean after dealing with Kiki. (Her brief moment of foster-motherhood)
Over the years he would become a bit of an aggressor. Nothing to hold against him, just was his nature. Sometimes cranky. He was basicly like....
'I don't want to be held for more than a minute. I don't mind attention but, don't over do it. I'm the boss over the other two cats now that I am grown. I'll sit with you for a little while but not on your lap fully. And when I beg at the table, don't worry, I only want a small small taste and then I will go back to what I was doing. Further, I will reward you with pride with birds I hunted for, they will be near our front door.'[/FONT][/I]
Now he had a hunter's instinct, unlike Spike. Used it alot. Not one ounce of fat on his body. Muscle. Alot of suprise gifts for me awaiting for me during the summer at the door way. In Kiki's older near elder years A german Shepard was harrassing her in our own yard (Who knows where it came from) It kept bothering her, barking up and close, ect and here comes along PJ

He was rough, not playful rough though. This cat took no crap from anyone or anything. No body was mean to him, you could just tell. That's not to say he wasn't without a nicer side which showed everyday. He'd purr and enjoy little treats, his favorite was a peice of muffin. Just a small piece from time to time. And at the end of the night, usually he was at the bottom of my bed sleeping.
Even though I've learned to live life without around 15 years ago, I miss him. I reflect fondly. It hurt alot for about six months after I brought him to the vet for the last time. This was a week before that year's Christmas. We had about 20 yers of life together. Great years of which I am fortunate to enjoy through good and bad. If I could say anything to him, it would be.....
"PJ, I am very proud of you. You knew where home always was. You defended it. You asked for no more than a taste of people food, to be part of the dinner table without glutton. Your friendship I treasure to this very day and would never have changed anything about you. No sucessor of yours will ever replace what we shared. Everything about you I love and will bring that with me all through my life."
I know its tone that cats understand, not language but, in the pretend world that he could be here and understand words, that is what I would say. And feel no silliness about that.
Lastly he was a black and white tuxedo. Green eyes. Thick white whiskers, long too. Fluffy long fur. The fur at his neck reminded me partly of a lion's mane. Big paws. Big head. Slick. Clever.
And it isn't that I loved him more than Spike or think he was more special. I feel as the same strength of feelings for both and all felines I have gotten to know. It is only that the things above arer what made PJ great!
And when I heal, I shall be able to write my humble tribute of Spike. He deserves his recognition too.